


Possessive

by mysteriol



Series: Romantic Milestone series: A.K.A. complete awkwardness by Cloud Strife in trying to achieve the milestones of a romantic relationship – hand holding, kisses…and the final base. [2]
Category: Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cloud raging like a jealous lover, F/M, Falling In Love, Final Fantasy VII Remake, First Kiss, Fluff, Humor, Kisses, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:35:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24608530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysteriol/pseuds/mysteriol
Summary: Aerith covers an evening shift at the Seventh Heaven bar – and Cloud is NOT happy that she’s attracting too much attention from the opposite gender. [ Cloud x Aerith, post-Remake, fluff ]“You…don’t like it when I work at the bar? Mister Strife, are you…jealous?”
Relationships: Aerith Gainsborough/Cloud Strife
Series: Romantic Milestone series: A.K.A. complete awkwardness by Cloud Strife in trying to achieve the milestones of a romantic relationship – hand holding, kisses…and the final base. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1778836
Comments: 17
Kudos: 89





	Possessive

**Author's Note:**

> A/n:  
> Had a long day at work so will just keep this sweet, and hopefully fluffy enough for you all. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Post-Remake. Let’s assume Sephiroth dies, and CxA gets to ship their sail happily ever after. Hell yeah. 😊 no beta-read imma lazy yadda… 
> 
> Fic can be read on its own, but can also be taken after part 1 of this multi-series…which means Cloud x Aerith are already officially dating, in case you missed it lol. 
> 
> Myst-san

**\---- part 2: jealousy / first kiss**

Cloud’s nightmare began with a phone call.

It was a simple request, really. Short and simple. Tifa needed to get out of town to complete some business transactions pertaining to her newly-built Seventh Heaven bar. There was no other part-timers available on the rota in short notice to take over her shift, and Yuffie was away on another date with the red-haired Turk she had recently set her eyes on, so that boiled down to one last option Tifa could count on.

_Aerith._

He found himself clenching his fists. _Why did it have to be her!? Why HIS Aerith?_ Couldn’t Tifa have yelled at one of her employers to report for shift hook or by crook? Wasn’t she the boss and had the last say in all matters? Why did Seventh Heaven not have a single staff available to work the evening shift tonight?

Of course, Aerith – HIS Aerith – had been her usual, perky self and had bubbly acceded to her friend’s request without a moment’s hesitation. Tifa was the closest thing she had to a best friend – she would never have the heart to say no when her friend was asking her favour. “Besides, it’s just one shift,” Aerith reassured Cloud, while having gone to change into something more suitable for her night at the bar. 

_A bar. Evening shift._ Cloud didn’t like the way his evening was going to turn out. His stomach turned inside out in uneasiness. The thought of HIS Aerith going anywhere near potential leery male customers into the wee hours of midnight possibly very much drunk and horny, was putting his entire mind into red alert status. No way in hell he was going to let her go alone. He was _not_ sending his girlfriend straight into the den of a lion’s nest by herself.

He was going with her.

So that was how the horror of his night descended on him eventually. He found his adamant requests for her to ignore Tifa’s phonecall and to sit at home instead to accompany him to watch a movie on the couch go entirely unheeded. He was brushed aside with an enthusiastic smile and a flick of her hands, “Oh, you worry too much, _worrywart!_ Besides, you can trust me to protect myself. It’s just an evening shift, Cloud. I’ll be fine.” She had convinced him.

He wasn’t so sure. Sure, he trusted her alright, but there was no bloody way he trusted _men_ not to ogle at her, especially now that Aerith had changed into a different outfit altogether, ready to hit up the bar for her shift.

Lord, she looked devastatingly beautiful in her long satin red slip dress that accentuated all her feminine curves in the right places, and if she was going to look that jaw-achingly gorgeous in front of all that men, Cloud was sure as hell _not_ going to leave her out of sight anywhere within his radius. He was going to have to keep an eye out for her and potentially send any male threat her way to the dingy depths of hell and never back.

It was nearly 8 o’clock in the evening when Cloud found himself sitting on the far end of the Seventh Heaven bar counter, with his buster sword readily latched onto his back. He was in his grumpiest mood, and made no effort to mask it. He hated everything – hated the way the bar music jukebox was playing such a damn jazzy music on loop, hated the way Aerith was looking so damn seductive and delicate in her dress and he wasn’t allowed anywhere nearer to her than her customers while she was working, hated the way Aerith was literally doing a one-woman job without any help, so that increased her interaction with every _single_ men by ten-folds, hated the way business was doing so well at the bar that the orders for cocktails and beers and wines just kept coming.

As his girlfriend busied herself mixing cocktails and popping champagne bottles to tables and tables, Cloud resorted to gulping down his lone glass of fizzy soda (no way in hell he was going to be drunk if he intended to beat up people tonight) on his merry lonesome self by a corner, trying his hardest not to be distracted by the sight of customers calling out for Aerith to tend to them _every. damn. second._

“Hey, gorgeous! Get us two glasses of wine over here!”

“Join us for a drink if you have a minute to spare, lovely lady?”

“Aww, come on and let down your hair tonight, Ms. Gainsborough, we’ll treat you to a drink!”

Every single sentence that escaped from the mouths of those male strangers around the bar was adding more and more fuel to the fire that was beginning to be set ablaze in Cloud’s chest. His eyes narrowed into a slit, his brows furrowed. He balled his fists so tight, the veins against the skin of his forearms turned purple. His blood coursed and pumped.

He brought the glass of soda to his lips and drank.

“Hey sexy, how about a lap dance for me and my friend over here?”

“Aw, c’mon Aeriieeeeee, you know how much we love seeing you smile…”

**_That’s it._ **

_That’s fucking it._

Cloud Strife stood up, shoulders tensed, buster sword ready by his back. Adrenaline was pumping hard in his blood.

He was fucking pissed.

And the fact that Aerith, HIS Aerith, was being way too nice and attentive to those customers and absolutely not doing a darn thing to reject their advances in her bid not to offend and chase away Tifa’s customers, was causing him to boil over and see a hundred shades of red in his blood. If rage was a person, Cloud Strife was the embodiment of it.

He was ready to kill, if he needed to.

If one more damn man actually called out _his_ Aerith one more time and called her anything remotely akin to their possession, he was going to—

“Hey my darrllllling Aerith, come here and show me what you can do with that delicious cocktail-mixing skills of yours.”

_BHAM!!!!!_

Cloud had sent both his fists pummeling through the bar counter, almost knocking the entire piece of hardwood over.

The loud noise snatched the customers out of their drunken stupor, staring at the spikey-blonde hair man in a mix of confusion and disbelief.

“Oh gosh, Cloud—” Aerith had in that opportune moment _finally_ paid him attention the first time that whole evening.

 _Oh yes, high time you notice your boyfriend is alive and well and drowning his rage in fizzy soda, Aerith_ , Cloud sardonically thought as he literally flew in blind anger and fury to the flower girl’s side and grabbed her wrist in his. Her emerald eyes rounded in surprise as she let herself be dragged away by a _very_ peeved Cloud, out of the doors of the bar. She was light as a feather in the forceful strength of one very infuriated Cloud Strife gripping her like his life depended on it.

“Cloud, are you alright? What happened back there?” She was desperately trying to catch up with the mercenary as he pulled her out of the bar into the dark corridor outside its entrance. He was walking so hastily with her tagging behind, hand in his, that she nearly tripped over her heeled sandals and stumbled. “Cloud, wait—”

Once he made sure they were a good ten yards from the bar, he had pushed her, not harshly, against the wall, so his eyes were now looking hard into hers. He was breathing heavy, from the anger or rage burning in his eyes, he wasn’t sure, but he certainly wasn’t letting go of her hands yet. He had just barely tossed her out of the eye of a tornado, for all she knew.

“What’s going on?” She gave him an innocent look, genuinely looking as if she had no clue to his fury. 

“You…You…” He looked at her, attempting to the find the right words to voice out his displeasure, his rage, his frustration, his maelstrom of emotions at the bar earlier. How the hell do you explain to the love of your life that nobody, NOBODY, gets to call her any names or terms of affection remotely hinting of being their property – names only solely reserved for _your_ own use and nobody else’s?

Nadda, Cloud had the social aptitude in a romantic communication close to zero. So he simply stared at her with daggers arrowing from his eyes, his fists tightly balled and lips pursed tightly in the grouchiest frown.

In the end, he settled for a sigh, and ran a frustrated hand through his hair, “I don’t want you to ever take another shift in Tifa’s bar again.”

“What? Why?”

He took both her hands in his, his eyes serious, “Promise me, dammit, Aerith.”

She looked confused, then as if carefully, slowly contemplating his words, something started brimming in those emerald orbs. She found herself staring up into her very infuriated boyfriend, who still looked readily poised for a battle, defenses on high, ready to fight anytime with a swing of his sword. “You…don’t like it when I work in the bar?”

He wasn’t going to lie. Through gritted teeth, he dryly answered, “No. Hate it, in fact.”

There was silence as she absorbed his confession. Something akin to realization dawned in her eyes, and she broke out in giggles under her breath.

Cloud cocked his head to the side, as if not comprehending what was so funny, “What?”

Aerith couldn’t help it. She laughed, and tiptoed to poke him in the forehead.

Despite his earlier rage fit, Cloud found himself going weak in the knees when she looked at him like that. A part of him melted from her touch, and Cloud found himself calmer than he was five seconds ago. She had this unnerving ability to tame him, and he knew it.

“Mister Strife… are you…jealous?” She teased, mirth alit in her twinkling eyes.

Something hit him in full force as the word she had pronounced sunk in like deadweight. It struck him at the core, and shook his blood.

Wait… Was he? Was he…jealous?

Was he -- the accidental hero, the widely regarded mercenary around Gaia, the one whom everybody knew had saved the world from a deranged madman – jealous of drunken men in a tiny bar hitting on his girlfriend?

Cloud found himself staring at the reluctant truth face to face – all black and white to him in apparent facts. He found his heart sinking to his knees. A sense of mortification filled him along with unavoidable dread.

Yep, Cloud Strife was a hundred percent jealous, alright.

“I…I…” For the first time, as he forced Aerith against the wall almost in a pinning position (although with zero intention to hurt her - he knew he had executed his moves in a moment of blind rage targeted at those dodgy men, not at her), he was at a loss of words as he mutely stared into the set of emerald eyes now dancing in delight at her boyfriend’s emotional plight. Cloud narrowed his eyes, “Are you…are you making fun of me, Aerith?”

A giggle bubbled from her throat. She had touched a tender hand to his cheek. Despite the circumstances Cloud found himself in, he flushed a shade darker, suddenly forgetting his anger, even if just for a few seconds. Damn, she sure as hell knew which tactic to employ to easily distract him – he wasn’t falling for it this time, nor give her the upper hand. He wouldn’t let her think she was getting off the hook so easily.

“So,” she drawled purposefully, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile, “you ARE jealous, Mr. Strife.”

“Hn,” he hissed, looking away, “Only worried those men are going to gobble you up . Did you see the way they looked at you? And you weren’t even fazed by their advances. What, you’re entertaining them now, Aerith? Is that what it is now working as a bartender in Tifa’s bar?” He was rambling on and on in rage. Cloud seldom, if ever, rambled. But his mind was consumed by the thoughts of men ogling at _his_ flower girl, and he was going into a verbal vomit before he could stop himself.

He watched Aerith’s eyes widen in a slight startle, and his heart immediately thudded.

He stopped himself, and his eyes acquired an abrupt softness.

He hoped he hadn’t scared her by yelling.

He immediately dropped a hand down to his side. The other hand remained firmly on her shoulder, refusing to let go just in case she decided to slip away back into the bar with those unruly men. “S-Sorry, didn’t mean to.” He looked away. Nope, he lied, he wasn’t at all remotely apologetic about the way he felt about those customers.

Her soft hands grazed his cheeks, guiding them so he was forced to look at her once more.

Her eyes were soft, but there was now a glimmer of playfulness and mischief radiating within them. With her looking like that in the moonlight, draped in satin red, her hair coming all undone from her ponytail in his hasty, flustered bid to pull her away into the corridor out here, she looked like a disheveled mess… but what a bloody enchanting mess.

His heart stopped in his throat. Damn her and her beauty, damn her looking like that making him forget about his sudden all-out berserk state.

_Focus, Cloud, focus…You’re angry. You’re angry. Stay angry._

It was hard to think about obliterating a mass of hormonal, drunken men with her achingly enchanting smile.

“Cloud,” she held his face in her hands, her breath sending shivers down his spine as she inched closer, ( _breathe, breathe, breathe,_ was all his thoughts rummaging through his brain), “Cloud, you are _so_ cute when you’re jealous.”

She was still giggling.

He rolled his eyes. “I am NOT cute, Aerith.”

“Cute,” she nodded her head, smiling brightly and tracing the outline of his eyebrow, “and adorable.”

He scoffed, tried his best to. She was standing so damn near, and his knees were giving way any minute. Funny, in front of a lady with no weapon in her arsenal at the moment, he was the one defenseless.

“Don’t think flattery is going to make me forget about me not wanting this to happen, again.” He reminded her, as sternly as he could.

“So…you don’t want me working in the bar again?” She asked good-naturedly, her smile unfaltering.

“Look,” he sounded exasperated, “Do I need to repeat myself, Aerith?”

“Ok, Mister Merc,” she was inching so close, their noises were almost touching.

_Don’t pass out, Strife, stay sane. Stay conscious. Deep breaths, in, out, in, out. Good._

She brushed her fingers against his temple.

He was dizzy with stars in his vision. All prep talk to himself went down the drain.

_Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod._

“Although,” she was teasing again, “I wouldn’t mind working at the bar again if it’s worth seeing you jealous, Cloud.”

“Don’t you dare.” In his dizziness, he thought of all those men again, and something inexplicable happened in that conjuring of so many negative emotions in him, all at once. In frustration and resolute determination, he had slammed his knuckles against the wall beside her. “No more shifts, ever, Aerith.”

“Ooohh, bossy Cloud,” she giggled. She was merciless, “I like jealous _and_ bossy Cloud.”

“Tch.” He retorted mono-syllabically.

And he didn’t see it coming next – it came too quick, too fast, and absolutely blindsided him.

She had tiptoed, and pressed her mouth to his.

His world swayed. Stars swarm into his head.

_What._

He nearly reeled from shock. He could only stare at her when she pulled back just as quickly as she had initiated it. His mind struggled to process whatever was going on, but he simply could not fathom his next choice of action nor words. Didn’t help that his heart was accelerating twice its normal rate, and his thoughts were incoherently jumbled like having been shot by electricity. All he saw were thunder and stars all combined into one mega storm in his head.

She smiled, slightly sheepishly for catching him off-guard, but more so for his bewildered state of still trying to register what had happened.

_Cloud.exe, rebooting… still rebooting…_

“You’re cute when you’re jealous AND bossy, Mister Strife.” She said again, for effect. Then she broke into the gentlest smile he had witnessed that evening. “And yes, I promise, okay? I’ll stop working there. I just want you to be happy, and not be all grumpy. Although… I’ll definitely miss Alpha Oh-I’m-So-Dominating-and-Possessive Cloud Strife.” She giggled cheerily.

He cocked an eyebrow. She liked that when he acted like that? For real?

Oh, logic and thoughts and repercussions be damned. To hell with all the consequences. To hell with all those men he wanted to punch the daylights out if they ever laid a finger on her.

He exhaled, inhaled her scent. All of those wildflowers and berries in her hair. He yearned so much, craved for all of her. He would never have enough.

He snaked a strong arm around her tiny waist, heard her exclaim softly and draw in a quavering breath. He was acting impulsively; he didn’t care.

_To hell with it, to hell with them. No other men can have you._

He bent his head and kissed her, mouth claiming hers entirely in his.

_You’re mine, Aerith Gainsborough._

**FIN**

* * *

A/N:

YAASSS!!!! First kiss, check!

I LIKE bossy Alpha dominating Cloud, too. Hehehehe

I like the imagery of possessive-dominating Cloud pinning Aerith to the wall in a jealous rage. So sexayyy.

Was contemplating whether to stop the fic there or move on into M-rated territory lol but..well, let’s just finish there for now because I’m tired and have to work tomorrow. Maybe for the next fic, if you guys are liking this multi-series thus far ; ) I def had a lot of fun writing and torturing Cloud into Cloud.exe failing mode.

Comment/review and make my day! You know you wanna.. winks

Myst-san


End file.
